


Standing Guard

by Laylah



Category: Samurai Warriors
Genre: Community: fan_flashworks, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very few people are trustworthy enough to guard Lord Nobunaga's tent personally. Mitsuhide is honored to be counted among them, and yet there are moments when he wishes to be less capable of overhearing so plainly what happens inside.</p>
<p>[for the "Voice" challenge]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing Guard

Very few people are trustworthy enough to guard Lord Nobunaga's tent personally. Mitsuhide is honored to be counted among them; his lord is his world. And yet there are moments when he wishes... not to be relieved of his duty, no, but perhaps to be less capable of overhearing so plainly what happens inside.

Ranmaru is in Lord Nobunaga's tent tonight. That is generally more unsettling than when No is present; her joyful clash of wills with him is more remote, where Ranmaru's pliancy—the surrender of a sword in its master's hands—is far closer to what Mitsuhide could expect to offer were he inside instead of guarding.

"You have a lovely mouth, Ranmaru," Lord Nobunaga murmurs, and the hair stands up on the back of Mitsuhide's neck. He stares resolutely into the darkness. "Give it to me."

"It is yours, my lord," Ranmaru answers. "I am yours." Their voices are so clear. There might as well be nothing separating them from Mitsuhide outside; the tent flaps seem to muffle nothing.

"Good. My beautiful blade, Ranmaru." Mitsuhide imagines him cupping Ranmaru's chin in one strong hand. "Mmm, yes."

Mitsuhide watches the treeline in the distance, trying not to listen, trying not to give attention to his body's responses. He can't block out the soft, wet sounds he hears, or the rustle of shifting cloth. This is torment.

"Touch yourself," Lord Nobunaga says. Mitsuhide shudders. "Take your pleasure as you serve me." Ranmaru moans. "You take to your training so well. I should focus more on this aspect of it. With enough practice, I could teach you to need nothing else—to come simply from having me use your throat."

Ranmaru makes a choked sob, and Mitsuhide aches. Is that even possible? Lord Nobunaga could do it if anyone could. Mitsuhide's face feels hot despite the chill of the air. He can so easily imagine what the scene looks like, with Ranmaru's eyes closed in blissful surrender, lips stretched around the heat buried in him to the hilt. 

This is improper. This is _distracting_ , when Mitsuhide's duty is to keep watch for threats. He puts a hand on the hilt of his sword, as if that could make him ready to face anything when he feels like this. The way Lord Nobunaga hums with pleasure sets his blood on fire.

"Now, Ranmaru," Lord Nobunaga purrs, after far too much of this torment and nowhere near enough. "Give me your climax. Let me feel the clutch of your throat." 

Mitsuhide's hand tightens on his sword hilt so hard his knuckles ache. Ranmaru's mouth is making Lord Nobunaga groan with pleasure, the nearest Mitsuhide can imagine him coming to surrender himself.

"Drink it down." Lord Nobunaga's voice is hoarse with desire. "Swallow it all." Ranmaru chokes, but he's still moaning through it, as though he's grateful—rightly grateful—for even this. Mitsuhide's cheeks burn, with need and with the shame of envy.

Mercifully, at least, that means it's over. Mitsuhide takes deep breaths, trying to steady his nerves and regain his composure.

"My lord?" Ranmaru asks, his usually sweet voice roughened from the use. "Is that truly possible? The training you mentioned?"

"The mind is capable of amazing things," Lord Nobunaga says. "If your desire to please me is strong enough, then it's absolutely possible." Laughter creeps into his voice, rich and dark. "After all—Mitsuhide is halfway there right now."


End file.
